Protective Detail
by Trinity Everett
Summary: Beckett attends a book function with Castle, but she's not there as his wife.


**Protective Detail**

 _ **Prompt: Kate goes to an event with Castle, but not as his wife but as his bodyguard after a crazy fan make several threats to him and because she does not trust anyone to protect him unless her. I would love to see her overprotective with him. (From castlefanficprompts)**_

* * *

Straightening his tie isn't easy when his wife is behind him looking like _that_. Her suit is crisp, the stark white shirt tucked into her pants and the collar open just a little. She's all long lines and sharp edges, even down to the boots that put her just shy of eye level with him. He's just thankful she's not wearing a tie. That would put her sexiness through the roof and put him in the ground.

Although, it would be an interesting bit of irony: death by tie-wearing wife on a night she's chosen to be his personal protective detail.

She's known from their very first case together how over the top and disturbing some of the things his fans say to him can be, but after last summer he doesn't blame her for not taking the words with the same shaker of salt she always has. He's received threats before – mostly after killing off Derrick Storm – but he deals with them by being charming yet cautious with his fans. Still, he doesn't fault Kate for seeing the words "I'll kill you, Castle," in that letter and five others sent over the course of the last four months and sending them off to a guy in the lab who's willing to do her favors like this because he's a little bit in love with her.

Of course, when everything came back clean and untraceable, Beckett decided he should have protection at tonight's event. Not someone Black Pawn hired, of course, just her watching his back. If the boys weren't already working tonight, he's pretty sure she would've recruited them, too, but as it stands right now she's acting as his bodyguard tonight, not his wife.

As seriously as he knows he should take the threats, he's mostly focused on how insanely _hot_ she looks. It's not just the suit, either, it's the serious, concentrated look on her face. The look that says she will take zero shit from anyone. He's been on the receiving end of that look more than a few times and he pities anyone who thinks they'll be able to cross her and live.

"Stop staring at me, Castle, and fix your tie."

Grinning in the mirror, he spins instead. "Help me?"

His wife rolls her eyes, stepping up to tug on the mess he's made of said silk contraption. "I know you're enjoying this, babe, but at least _try_ to be serious tonight?"

"Of course, I'm always serious."

"I mean it. I know it's all fun and games, and that you're gonna start crooning Whitney Houston any time now, but I need you to be serious. I don't want to take any chances, so I'll be right beside you the entire time and I want you to tell me if anything seems weird, even by your standards."

"Beckett," he murmurs, pushing her jacket out of the way to touch her hips. "I will tell you if anything looks out of place. I will tell you if I see anyone with a handlebar mustache and a thing of rope getting ready to tie me to the train tracks."

"Rick," she chides, fingers stilling on his tie. He covers her hand gently, pulling her knuckles to his mouth.

"I promise. If anyone looks sketchy I'll tell you. Whoever sent that letter, they're not getting to me. Nobody else is getting to me. Just like nobody else is getting to you," he promises, remembering all too well how frantic he'd been just a couple months ago when she'd been missing.

Beckett's mouth collides with his. The kiss is brief, sharp, but he rocks into her anyway in promise.

"It'll be fine," he assures, nipping at her lip. "And I can't wait to see you blowing everyone away with your hotness."

She hums, taking a steadying breath. "Okay. We'd better go; you're the man of the hour." She smooths her hands over his shoulder, picking at a speck of lint. "Proud of you, babe."

"Thanks." He takes a deep breath, offering her his arm. "Shall we?"

That breaks her serious face a little bit. He has no doubt she'll be completely focused when they arrive at the party, but for now he's happy to see the way her eyes light up.

"Yeah, let's get out of here," she agrees, moving to retrieve her weapon from the safe in his office. She's not using her service piece tonight.

She's cautious the entire night, staying within an arm's reach of him everywhere he goes (excluding the men's room, but that's only because he calls an all-clear to her while she stands guard outside the door). She makes small talk, of course, thanking well-wishers for their congratulations on the wedding, late though the sentiments may be, but she's never not on alert.

He's pleased to see she cracks a real smile when he makes his speech, thanking her for being the best friend, love, and bodyguard he's ever had, even as her eyes never stop scanning the room. When he steps down, he takes the opportunity to kiss her cheek, brushing his lips over her ear.

"Anything?"

Her head shakes almost imperceptibly. "Nothing. Just your usual adoring public."

"Good." His palm slides over her hip soothingly, pulling her closer. She resists for a moment before winding her arms underneath his jacket and resting her cheek against his.

"You think I overreacted, don't you?"

He sways gently, splaying his fingers over her lower back. The music coming over the speakers is more upbeat than their tempo, but it doesn't matter.

"No, I think you still blame yourself for last summer," he chooses his words carefully, not wanting to upset her any more than the entire situation already has. "I think deep down you want to believe there's a clue that we missed, one that would've kept me from being taken if we'd seen it earlier. And I think you've put this on yourself because of that."

Beckett sighs. "I'm sorry."

"For wanting to keep me alive? Beckett, never apologize for that. The way I see it, you're the foremost expert in what constitutes a potentially real threat to maim me versus a way to distance yourself and deny how badly you want me."

He feels her cheek lift a little bit, even though he knows she's rolling her eyes.

"My point is I will do this your way."

"Thank you," she murmurs, pressing her lips to his cheek gently.

They sway together for a few minutes, letting the half-dance work its magic and relax them both. She's still vigilant, obviously, but the stiffness is gone from her shoulders and he knows she won't be nursing a stress headache when they get home.

Eventually Paula appears over Kate's shoulder, tapping her watch expectantly. Right, he has to do the signing and pictures thing, too.

"Cute as you two are, I'm gonna need you over here for now, Rick."

"Busted," he murmurs, lips brushing his wife's hair. She snorts, already stepping back and squaring her shoulders. Duty calls once more.

"Next time we'll sneak behind the stage," Kate drawls, patting his chest.

"Perfect idea, Mrs. Castle. You're so smart."

He earns that eye roll, he really does.

"Come on, Beckett. You can keep people from getting grabby."

Beckett snorts. "Oh, I plan to, Castle. I plan to."


End file.
